


the days following

by rileyhart



Series: after the war [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, OH HARRY CENTRIC, Post DH, Post War, background romione, idk just hinny workin thru some things rlly, shoulda but that one first whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 12:47:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19151329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rileyhart/pseuds/rileyhart
Summary: a harry centric fic focusing on the first week after the war. hinny!!!!!





	the days following

**Author's Note:**

> so i just finished my millionth reread but my first in a longtime and i fucking adore harry and ginny so god damn much so here have this!

The days following The Battle Of Hogwarts were the most depressing days Harry had ever spent at The Burrow.

They all stayed at Hogwarts for a few days, helping clear up and rebuild. Harry allowed everyone to approach and cry their thanks, the ghost of whomever they’d lost in their eyes. Harry hates every minute but he feels as if he owes it to them. It might’ve been him who had defeated Lord Voldemort, but it was also him that had drawn Voldemort and the Death Eaters to Hogwarts for the Final Battle, even if he hadn’t meant to.

Harry had never thought about what would happen if he actually beat Lord Voldemort. Not about the immediate aftermath at least.

 

After a draining two days of post-war life they arrive back at The Burrow. George immediately hauls himself up in his room and Mrs Weasley bursts into tears as he disappears up the stairs.

Harry has no clue what to do. These are the people he loves most in the world, and yet all of a sudden he has no idea what to do or how to act. Let alone with Ginny… They haven’t had a single moment together since the war ended. And has much as he wants to hold her, to kiss, to comfort her, to cry into her shoulder, Harry is petrified of seeing her grief for George reflected in her eyes. 

 

He even asks Kingsley if he needs any help at the Ministry when he comes over one night. But Kingsley waves him off. “You are young, Potter,” he says in his deep, soothing voice. “I think it only fair that you get to start acting like it.”

 

Ron and Hermione - who, Harry notices, seem to be constantly touching in some form or another - are just as aimless as he is.

“I… I feel so sad,” Hermione whispers to the pair of them one night, as they sit in Harry and Ron’s room. Ron and Hermione on his bed, Harry, sitting facing them cross-legged on his own. “But I don’t know. I feel like I should be sadder… like I’m more empty than sad. And then I think of Fred…” she looks up at Ron, tears in her eyes, and he pulls her into a hug right on cue as she begins to cry.

Harry watches them for a moment and then turns away so they don’t see the tears in his own eyes.

He knows exactly what Hermione means. The grief is so overwhelming that he just feels empty. And then he thinks about The Weasleys, about baby Teddy Lupin, and feels guilty for even feeling sad.

 

Almost a week post-war, Harry is walking up and down The Burrow’s stairs pointlessly. He’d seen Hermione slip into his and Ron’s room half an hour ago and he doesn’t really feel like knocking on the door and opening it only for them to pretend they’ve just been reading on different beds the entire time.

“Harry,” comes a voice, and he jumps, startled. He turns to see Ginny, her door slightly ajar, her long red hair cascading down behind her. “How many times are you going to walk past my door?” She asks.

“What? No- No I wasn’t… Not because of…” he splutters nonsensically, falling silent at her look of determination - so similar to the one she’d had on her face the first time they’d kissed.

He becomes acutely aware that this is the first time they’ve been alone since before Bill and Fleur’s wedding.

_ I should say something about Fred. Say something about Fred! _

“I… I…  I’m sorry Ginny,” he finally says, “this whole week I’ve just been wanting to talk to you.”

It’s the truth.

“About?” She asks, looking up at him.

He looks back at her, his heart beating against his ribs. “Everything.”

It’s all she needs to hear, because she’s suddenly pulling him into her room and slamming the door shut.

Before Harry even as a moment to process anything, Ginny is kissing him up against her bedroom door, rough and passionate.

Holding her face in his hands, he kisses her back hungrily - a whole year to make up for - and for the first time since the war ended he’s not The Boy Who Lived or The Man who Defeated Voldemort. He’s Just Harry kissing Ginny Weasley, and that is the greatest thing he possibly can be.

He feels a tug against his jeans, as Ginny slips her fingers into the waistband of his pocket and leads him towards her bed.

Stumbling like the clumsy teenagers they are, Ginny falls backwards onto her bed, pulling Harry on top of her, their mouths refusing to break apart.

Harry feels her tug on his shirt and they break apart only to pull it over his head. He reaches for her top as she begins to hastily undo his belt and fly.

It vaguely occurs to Harry that the undressing part probably would’ve been easier to do whilst they were standing up, as Ginny has to do a funny shuffle in order for him to take her top off.

They’re kissing again, Ginny still fumbling with his belt to the point where he’s about to undo it himself but suddenly she’s crying, and she pushes Harry roughly off her. She swings her legs over the bed, sitting there hunched over; head in her hands.

“Ginny,” he whispers, reaching out to touch her, but she jerks away from him. 

She cries softly and he thinks about how Ron holds Hermione when she cries, and attempts again to reach out for her. This time Ginny doesn’t recoil at his touch, but leans into his hug.

She cries and he has no idea what just happened. Ginny hardly ever cries. He’s briefly reminded of his first kiss with Cho Chang, but with everything that is happening, that is easily shoved aside in his head.

She looks up at him, the tears ceasing to fall but still glittering on her cheeks and in her eyes. A fierce, angry look swims behind the tears. “I thought you were dead!” She yells at him suddenly, and he is taken aback by the anger in her voice.

“I- I’m sorry, Ginny,” he says weakly. He can’t help but feel insanely awkward saying this without their shirts on.

“Fred, Remus, and Tonks, and then y-you,” her voice wavers but no more tears fall. “Hagrid was holding you and they s-said you were dead and I-” she cuts herself off suddenly, and stops looking at him, fiddling absentmindedly with the bra strap that had slid down her shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to that?”

She doesn’t look at him as she says this, still staring blankly ahead of her. She always looks at Harry when she speaks, she’s never been one to shy away from conflict.

And he knows it’s because she’s scared of the answer.

“Because I really thought I was going to die.” He says this so softly that she’s caught off guard and turns to look at him, anger replaced by tenderness. “And… I saw you,” he continues, “before I went into the forest. I wanted to talk to you, wanted you to stop me. But it was the only way.”

This time it is Harry that kisses her, soft and gentle.

“I really don’t want to go to any of the funerals,” she whispers, a shameful admission. “It’s just… it’s going to be so depressing. Fred would hate it so much.”

“We should set off fireworks or something,” Harry replies, and Ginny gives a watery laugh. “He, he would love that.”

They lapse into silence again. “I want you to tell me everything,” Ginny says after a moment. “Everything that happened after the wedding.” Her tone is not one to argue with. Harry owes her this much.

“Okay,” he nods, “and I want you to tell me everything that went on with you.”

“Deal,” Ginny agrees, a fleeting smile on her face. “You first.”

Before Harry can begin however, the door bursts open. “Ginny I- Oh! Harry!” Hermione explains, turning bright red at the sight of the pair of them and promptly shutting the door.

Harry, turning redder by the second, scrambles for his shirt and pulls it back on, rebuckling his belt too.

Ginny, too, pulls her top back on, but doesn’t seemed as phased as Harry.

“How about we talk tomorrow, sit outside where no one can interrupt us.” He suggests, and Ginny nods.

“I think that would be best,” and there’s a hint of humour in her voice.

Hermione is standing outside of Ginny’s bedroom when Harry exists. They’re both pink and flustered.

“Harry-”

“We didn’t do anything, Hermione!” He insists, not caring that he’s interrupted what he’s sure is her ‘this is not the time’ speech. “I mean, the whole family is home!” This is a thought that has only  _ just _ occurred to him. “We were just… and then we were just talking about… stuff.” It’s a poorly executed explanation and Harry waits for the lecture but Hermione seems lost for words.

“You’re not… you’re not going to tell Ron are you?” He asks her timidly and she scoffs.

“Harry, you really think I would do that?” She asks him, and he manages a slight grin.

“G’night Hermione.” Harry says to her.

“Goodnight,” she replies, heading into Ginny’s room.

Harry trudges up the stairs to his and Ron’s room.

“Where you been mate?” Ron asks when Harry enters.

Harry falls down onto his bed, lying on his back. “Oh, just downstairs.” 

It’s not a lie.

**Author's Note:**

> comments much appreciated! i might revisit the post-war era in the future!


End file.
